Velvete
by LoveKittyPaw
Summary: Ever wonder what Satine's mother was like? Well, here's HER story. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!! I LOVE REVIEWS!!! Thank you!
1. Chapter One

~*Author's Note*~ I really wanted to write another Moulin Rouge story, so I thought up this idea! There's nothing about the life of Satine's mother, nothing that would explain how Satine came to be a courtesan of the Moulin Rouge. So, this is the story of her mother. PLEASE REVIEW!!!! I LIVE OFF REVIEWS, I WILL DIE WITHOUT REVIEWS!!! SERIOUSLY!!! Thank you. Please enjoy, I hope you like it! ^_^  
  
  
  
  
  
Someday I will be free again. I stare out at the darkening sky, a husky blue against the tantalizingly bright light of the stars. It never truly gets dark here, because the multicolored fluorescent bulbs of the Moulin Rouge somehow always manage to illuminate the night sky. Outside on the pavilion music drones on, mingling with the babble of costumers and bohemians. But it seems that I have gone deaf to these now familiar nighttime sounds, and I close my eyes, letting the warm wind wash over my body, trying desperately to imagine that I am somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away…. A knock on the door jerks me back into reality, and I smile suggestively as the person enters. But it was only Harrison, so I relax again, letting my arms dangle over the sides of the chain blocking the open back of the elephant.  
  
"Velvete," he says, his voice rough but not unkind. "It's time for your performance." I blink, surprised. Was it already that late? I turn around to face him, smiling to mask my unhappiness.  
  
"Sorry, I'm afraid I was daydreaming….." I trail off with an inaudible sigh, turning to exit down the long flight of golden metal stairs and to the backstage area. I can sense Harry frowning behind me, but I ignore him and enter my dressing room, closing the door firmly behind me, hearing with satisfaction the lock click into place. I sat down at the mirror, artfully applying my makeup. Another night, another performance, another customer….the days drag on in excruciating monotony. But it is not just raw boredom, I'm horribly unhappy. Some, I know, would gladly be in my place, the "Sparkling Diamond" of the greatest nightclub in France, jewels, money, men fawning after me…But it's not just that simple. I have always felt that somehow there was a deeper purpose to my life, something better that I could achieve….not just to be an expensive man's plaything. Not a whore, a courtesan, is what people say. But what are titles, really? Just words. In my heart I know that what I do is neither glamorous nor right. I remember how happy my parents were together, so terribly in love. As far back as I can go I know I used to think how wonderful it would be when I found someone to love, and someone who would love me. The number one rule of a courtesan is to never, ever fall in love. But after their death, this was the only place I could go. Harry was my uncle after all, and I was a pretty girl. It was never supposed to turn out this way, I was just supposed to perform as a dancer and singer not….I involuntarily shuddered, buttoning the back of my red and white diamond studded corset dress and pulling on the matching gloves. The bottom of the dress fastened on and could be taken off easily, so I could remove the bottom to wear nothing but the corset and stockings. Lastly came the boa and feathered hat, which I put on after pulling my black hair into a loose bun. I looked in the mirror wordlessly, staring at my reflection. Gone was the seemingly innocent 21- year-old girl, and here was the dazzling experienced courtesan, the tempter of all men. I sighed. Time to go on with the show. I crept into the dimly lit backstage area, and heard the tinny bongo introduction to 'Meet me In The Red Room' being played. Harry's voice, distant, it seemed, was yelling, "Just ask her to meet you in the red room!" That was my cue. I parted the red and gold curtains deftly and stepped onstage with a flourish. As much as I despised selling myself, I grudgingly admitted that I loved performing.  
  
"I'll meet you in the red room close the door and dim the lights." I cooed, watching the men in front of me practically wilt. I walked off the stage swinging my hips, still singing.  
  
"I will be yours truly if indeed the price is right.  
  
So draw your sword, be my king, let your passions rise and sing  
  
Just show me the diamonds and I'll let you wear my ring." I extended my hand to show off a huge diamond ring, pausing to grab a necklace bristling with the clear stones and drape it around my neck with an appreciative giggle.  
  
"So just lay down beside me let us consummate.." 'consummate' echoed the others. I wrapped my arms around another man, giving him a good view of my cleavage. His eyes bugged out as I laughed provocatively.  
  
"I know you're bursting let me help you deflate." I turned to catch another piece of jewelry, a bracelet this time, and blew the hopeful guy a kiss.  
  
"If you want to plug in for a high voltage connection  
  
Show me cold hard cash and I will turn on my affections." I licked my lips and walked back onto the stage next to Harry, moaning and gasping naughtily in time to the music.  
  
"So don't hesitate I won't kiss and tell  
  
No need to worry cause.." I bent over, covering my hand with my mouth to stifle a not-so-innocent giggle. 'I'm a professional."  
  
"The show can start as soon as I see money on the table" I dropped the bottom portion of my dress as the men catcalled happily.  
  
"I've an empty space to fill I'm willing if you're able." There were calls of 'yes yes!' and 'meet ME in the red room!' I just smiled mistily, taking off my boa.  
  
"I'll meet you in the red room close the door and dim the lights" I continued, wrapping my boa around one man that looked as if I was too good to be true. I laughed, wiggling against him before returning to the stage.  
  
"I will be yours truly if indeed the price is right." The drumbeat went on, and Harry came up from behind me. "Which one is he?' I whispered, still dancing.  
  
Harry looked around before hissing back, "The one sitting in the private booth next to back door." I glanced over and saw a man, looking unusually young to be in the Moulin Rouge, about my age actually, with brown bordering on black hair and warm brown eyes. I frowned. The guy seemed way to cute and nice to be in a place like this.  
  
"Are you sure?" I asked, making sure I was still smiling to the men in front of the stage. Harry paused.  
  
"Yes I'm sure." He said again, pressing a sword in a scabbard into my hand. I nodded, passing through the crowd, pausing to kiss a man on the cheek here and there and catching assorted jewelry before coming up to where the man I was supposed to see tonight was sitting. He was even more adorable closer up, I realized distantly. I drew the sword with a practiced arc, still managing to make it look raunchy.  
  
"So draw your sword, be my king" I sang, pointing the blade at him.  
  
Let your passions rise and sing  
  
Just show me the diamonds and I'll let you wear my ring." I finished triumphantly, amused to see his face dissolve into an expression of surprised wonder. "So…will you meet me in the red room?" I purred. His mouth dropped open.  
  
"But you see, I- I don't think-" he started to say. I frowned. This guy was rejecting ME? I turned around with an exaggerated whimper, hearing the crowd immediately, as if on cue, yell, 'awwwwwwwwwwwww!' I turned around to give him a pout quickly accompanied by a sultry smile.  
  
"Meet me in the red room?" I said huskily again, this time putting the best irresistible sexual innuendo into it that I could.  
  
"All right." He gasped out. I grinned victoriously. I knew he'd want to. They always do. 


	2. Chapter Two

It was later that same night, and I was waiting impatiently for that guy to come up to the elephant. Harry had told me to look my best, so I had put on my most promiscuous red corset along with my garter belt and black silk robe. I lowered myself down onto the bed, the satin sheets rustling softly under my unexpected weight, twirling the tie to my robe unconsciously. On the small golden table across from the bed rested a heavy glass bottle of red wine, wafting an almost sickeningly sweet pungent odor through the air. I taped my high-heeled foot against the wooden floor, making a hollow sound that beat through the open room. Where was he? Finally there was a hesitant knock on the door. "Come in." I said, lacing my voice with sugar. At long last the man tentatively stepped inside, clutching a small brown book. I smiled wolfishly, sauntering up to the table and wrapping my fingers over a fragile crystal goblet. He blinked, looking almost startled. I inwardly frowned. Harry said this man was the 'fiery' type, but I wasn't so sure. "Would you….like some wine?" I asked, swishing around the liquid inside the bottle. He shook his head.  
  
"Oh, no thank you." He said politely, his voice containing a tiny drop of a Scottish accent. I paused. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They always want some wine. But I shrugged.  
  
"All right." I walked back over to the bed, hovering on the edge. "So, why don't you say we just get right down to it?' I said huskily. He nodded, pulling up a chair.  
  
"Good idea." he said quickly. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Did this guy have no common courtesy? But whatever he wanted to do… I realized he was still sitting in the chair and not coming any closer to the bed. Maybe he liked to watch or something…  
  
"Would you like to come over here?" I purred, patting the soft sheet covering the bed. This guy obviously needed it spelled out for him.  
  
  
  
"Oh no, I'll just do it sitting." He said, looking slightly flustered and embarrassed. I blinked in surprise. This was definitely a first. So I was preparing to get up, but he shook his head.  
  
  
  
"No, please just stay over there." He said lightly, motioning back towards the bed. "Sometimes it takes awhile." He explained, opening his small brown book, filled with blank sheets of paper. I couldn't stop the perplexed frown. What on earth was this guy going to do? "Now just get into any position that you like." He continued. What? He seemed to be looking for something, lifting his book and shaking it slightly.  
  
"Umm, is there something the matter?' I asked, trying to figure out what exactly he was trying to do. And to think I thought I had seen everything.  
  
"Well, you see," he said, now peering over the edge of his chair, "There seems to be something wrong with my pencil and erasers…" he trailed off, looking at me hopelessly. His pencil and erasers, huh? So this guy was into metaphors. Well, maybe he just needs a little inspiration…. So I got up and kissed him hard right on the lips.  
  
"Let's make love." I cooed, moving my fingers further down his broad back. He jerked away uncertainly.  
  
"What?" he choked out, backing away. What was wrong with this guy? He books a private appointment with me and doesn't want to have sex?  
  
"You know you want to." I continued, pressing more kisses onto his lips. I was leaning forward a little too much and the chair knocked over with a humungous bang, dragging me down with him when another knock rattled the door. Harry stepped in with another man, looking about 35, with a goatee and slick, practically white hair. I inwardly went through a long string of curses. What was he doing here? Harry knew I was with a customer…Harry blinked, seeing me almost straddling other guy, about as surprised as I was. "Why hello Harry." I said as if everything was perfectly normal, pushing myself rather roughly off him and standing up all in one quick move. I ran my hand nervously through my hair. 'I was just …ah…. Finishing up with… umm…." I waved frantically toward the brown haired guy, realizing I didn't even know his name. He mouthed something to me. I frowned. I was never any good at reading lips.  
  
"Nicole-" 'Nicholas!' he whispered loudly. I smiled remorsefully. "Nicholas here for a moment." I amended. Harry immediately saw the problem.  
  
"Ah yes, Nicholas, Nicholas." He turned to the white haired man. "Terribly sorry. I'm afraid I must have mixed your dates…" He shot Nicholas an extremely strange look before closing the door. I turned back to him and blinked.  
  
"So, uh..:" This had gotten very awkward very fast. Fire, fire, I reminded myself. "Yes. Yes." I repeated more firmly. "I'm terribly sorry about that. The dates must have," I motioned with my hands, "mixed, you see." I was horrible once my concentration was shattered.  
  
"So shall we get back to the drawing?" he asked. I frowned, confused.  
  
"The drawing? What drawing?" I said, rubbing my temples. This night was not going well.  
  
"The drawing of you I was supposed to do before, well, you know…:" he said, blushing slightly.  
  
" You just were supposed to draw me?" I burst out. "Then where's my real customer?" Then it hit me. The man Harry had brought in had been my real customer. This was definitely not one of my better nights.  
  
~*Author's Note*~ Oh, hope you liked it! Thank you so much for reading the second chapter of my story. Please review? Preeety please? With sugar on top? And a little cherry, and….OH JUST PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THEM, I LIIIIIIIIIIVE OFF THEM!!!!!!! I ADORE THEM!!! Thank you very much. Chapter three shall come, never fear! Yey! 


	3. Chapter Three

I stared at myself in the long, full-length mirror, toying uselessly with my almost waist length black hair. Ever since Nicholas had left, I hadn't been able to really focus on anything. With a defeated sigh I stepped over to the open back of the elephant, climbing carefully down the wrought iron golden staircase and down to the lit pavilion. At this late hour, most of the high paying customers had gone home, and only the ever- partying bohemians were at the many tables, swilling half-empty bottles of Absinthe and giggling loudly. The heavily implied sexual tension in the elephant was pulling at my nerves, and I breathed in relief as the warm, if alcohol dripping air, washed over my body in comforting waves. With a genuine smile I aimlessly roamed the Parisian streets, running my hands over the familiar grime swept cobblestones that formed the buildings. The darkness was thick, cold, a welcome relief from the impossibly bright lights and hot atmosphere of the Moulin Rouge. The streets were deserted and refreshingly quiet. The only sound was the gentle rise and fall of my breath. The image of Nicholas invaded my consciousness again, his friendly brown eyes, chocolate colored hair, and bright smile.  
  
"Haven't we met  
  
You're some kind of beautiful stranger  
  
You could be good for me  
  
I've had the taste for danger"  
  
I paused. How did I start singing that? With a shrug and a slight smile I continue the words to the song. The lyrics seem to perfectly fit my feelings.  
  
"If I'm smart then I'll run away  
  
But I'm not so I guess I'll stay  
  
Heaven forbid  
  
I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger"  
  
I start dancing around the empty alley with a reckless abandon, twirling around and watching the bottom of my dress billow out as it catches in the wind.  
  
"I looked into your eyes  
  
And my world came tumbling down  
  
You're the devil in disguise  
  
That's why I'm singing this song"  
  
I was so caught up in the music that I didn't hear the light patter of footsteps on the stone streets behind me.  
  
"Excuse me? Miss Velvete?" I whirled around at the familiar voice, embarrassed to feel my face burning in a heated blush. Nicholas stared at me with a sheepish yet infatuated expression. I NEVER blushed. I unconsciously ran my hand habitually through my hair, trying to smother my feelings.  
  
"Yes?" I finally said, hoping my mortification wasn't evident in my tone.  
  
"I…" he trailed off helplessly, looking about as embarrassed as I was. "I couldn't fall asleep, and I wanted to show you…you see, I was hoping to get a job as an artist for the Moulin Rouge, and I wanted you to look at…." He fumbled for his brown sketchpad he seemed to always carry around, flipping quickly through the pages, finally settling on one. I couldn't help but peer at it curiously, then gasping slightly. It was a drawing of me, yet it captured emotion as no art I had ever seen before. I was sitting on the bed in the elephant, my robe fanning out at my sides, my head turned promiscuously, a devilish smile haunting my lips. I touched the paper hesitantly.  
  
"It's…it's beautiful." I said, looking at him with a new wonder and respect. "You have a real talent." He grinned.  
  
"It's nothing. " he stopped, seeming to be internally battling himself. "When we…when we were in the elephant together…" he swallowed. I shifted uncomfortably, staring hard at the dirty ground. That particular situation was still fresh in my mind. "You….it felt like there was really…something…..between us." Why was he doing this? He KNEW I was a courtesan. The poor guy was only setting himself up to be hurt. "And I was just wondering if you…felt it too." I DID! A part of myself screamed. And you know it! But I stopped myself before I would say anything foolish.  
  
"Of course not." I said shortly. He looked down sadly, staring back up at me hopelessly.  
  
"It just felt so real." He almost whispered. I sighed, stepping closer to him.  
  
"Nicholas, I'm a courtesan. I'm paid to make it feel real." I winced as soon as the words slipped out. They seemed overly harsh, and I berated myself silently. "Besides," I said, trying to soften the blow, "it wouldn't matter. You wouldn't want to fall in love with someone like me." I turned to walk away before the situation could worsen, but Nicholas' incredulous voice stopped me.  
  
"What? Why wouldn't I?" he asked. I frowned. I thought at least THAT would be obvious.  
  
"Because….because I…I sell myself." I said.  
  
"I don't care." He said with a shrug. I laughed.  
  
"What?" I asked with a helpless grin.  
  
"I don't care who you are  
  
Where you're from  
  
Don't care what you did  
  
As long as you love me" he sang lightly with a 'who loves you baby?' smile. I giggled. He tentatively touched my cheek, and I was surprised to feel how much emotion simply brushing my skin with his stirred up. I was forced to look up and tilt my eyes into his deep brown ones, eyes you could get lost in. He leaned forward to kiss me, and I almost eagerly responded before stopping myself. I pushed him away, alarmed at how close I had come to willingly kissing him. "No, I can't do this." I hissed out, backing away. "I'm sorry. It's better this way." I continued, disturbed at the hurt that instantly brimmed his face. All falling in love with me would do was get this guy in way over his head. And he didn't deserve that. Before he could answer I turned away and stalked quickly back down the cold street, not once stopping to look back. But the worst part was that the pain in his features was reflected in mine, too.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*Author's Note*~ OMG I know its rather like the movie right now, but it'll get lots different, I promise you! ^_^ So do not fear. Thank you very much for reading this chapter! And a great big thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed. I really love you guys. You make my day! I've got so much bad/weird/unhappy stuff going on in my life right now, and it really makes me happy to see reviews. So…..REVIEW REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thankx. LUV YA!!!!! 


	4. Chapter Four

I chewed my bottom lip absently, crossing and uncrossing my legs, a habit I had reserved for when I was nervous or deep in thought. I sat on my low, wooden chair saturated with pink ruffled satin, facing my ornate silver mirror perched on my dresser that was covered with fragile perfume bottles in soft pastels, along with fluffy powder brushes and an assortment of makeup. Most of the other girls were sleeping, tired out from their night 'servicing', as Harrison so quaintly called it, the men who had almost ritualistically flocked to Moulin Rouge, seeking the bright night life that would tug away their thoughts and worries about their day-to-day responsibilities. I, on the other hand, had foolishly gone about the Parisian streets singing my lungs out about some man I had barely seen for half an hour like some insane sixteen-year-old schoolgirl. I clicked my teeth together indecisively, finally rising with a hiss of fabric scraping the material of my dress, and turned the faceted crystal doorknob to exit out into the dank, paling yellow hall, filled with two rows of paint peeled doors. I was completely stupid, ridiculous, and silly to be still thinking about Nicholas! I had to focus. Yes, that's just what I had to do, focus. Focus on my next performance tonight, Harrison had mentioned something about a new song- I guess with all the focusing going on I had completely forgot to look where I was going, because the next thing I knew I had completely toppled into a very large, warm somebody traveling down the hall in the opposite direction of myself. "Oh my, I'm so sorry-" I started at the exact same time as the other person mumbled,  
  
"Oh no, entirely my fault-" We both paused, immediately recognizing each other's voice. I, of course, had tumbled practically into Nicholas' arms, and he blinked, just as surprised as I was. I swallowed and cleared my throat awkwardly, trying desperately to recover and readjust my hat. Why did it always seem that just when you don't want to see someone they appear magically right in front of you? I nodded stiffly, remembering just in time that I was an accomplished actress and that I should at least put that particular skill to good use.  
  
"Good morning." I said primly, starting, unhesitant, back down the hallway.  
  
"Morning." He echoed vaguely, turning back the way he had been coming. I internally sighed, slightly regretful, but at the same time relieved that there hadn't been any conflict. I had thought way to soon.  
  
"Velvete?" he said, turning back to stare at my retreating form. I had no other choice but to do the same.  
  
"Yes?" I breathed out with more than a hint of impatience, planting one hand on my hip.  
  
"About last night, I just wanted to say that I-" I was starting to get more than just a smidge irritated. Didn't this guy understand when a girl blew him off?  
  
"What ABOUT last night?" I interrupted. "I thought last night pretty much explained itself." I really didn't want to do this, I really, honestly didn't, but he was asking for it. He had brought it up. So if he wanted to discuss last night, I was ready to discuss last night.  
  
"I don't understand why you don't even want to give me a chance." He said. What was I supposed to say to that? 'Oh yes Nicholas, I want you, in fact, my every waking thought now is about you, but the fact is that no matter how much we want to be together I'll always be a whore that sells herself?' Is that what he wanted to hear?  
  
"Don't understand?" I said, with some bitterness, "There's nothing not to understand." I spit out the next words with a vehemence that even startled myself. "I. Am. Not. Interested. In. You." I sighed inaudibly. I had never really imagined myself doing this. "Is that perfectly clear?" His eyes narrowed angrily. I guess I could have gone a little softer, but hey, this was all his fault after all.  
  
"Fine." He said. "What I was going to say to you, before you interrupted, was that I was sorry for throwing myself at you last night, and I was at least hoping that you would at least want to be friends." I opened my mouth to say something at least slightly intelligent back, but he stopped me. "But," he continued, "I can see that any kind of relationship wouldn't work out between us. "  
  
"Fine!" I almost yelled. If that's the way he wanted it!  
  
"FINE!" he said, turning around and walking away. That man made me so mad! I fumed. In one still rational corner of my mind I knew that I acted like a complete idiot and the majority of this was all my fault, but I really didn't care at the moment. If he was going to act like that, than to hell with him! I stormed back into my dressing room, slamming the door. At least now it wouldn't be hard to get him out of my head.  
  
  
  
**Author's Note** Sorry that was so bad, but I've been really kind of distracted lately. Oh well! Chapter five will, hopefully, be better. And thank you to everyone that's reviewed! I really appreciate it. IT MAKES MY DAY!!!! THANKS!!! 


	5. Chapter Five

I languidly crossed the dark empty stage, my high heels tapping a staccato beat against the highly polished wood. It was rehearsal for our new routine that we would present tonight, and I was unimaginably tired as I tried unsuccessfully to stifle a huge yawn. My whole body felt horribly run down, like my head was filled with a writhing thick white fog. "Come on now cherry," said Harrison somewhere from my above right standing on the velvet brocade balcony, "we have to get this done." I grimaced. HE had gotten a good night's sleep. It's not MY fault I had gotten stuck with an overly enthusiastic costumer last night. I groaned and stepped behind the crimson and yellow curtains. The heavy, seductive percussion beat of our new song, "I'm a Slave For You" started at an amazingly loud volume. There was a jungle theme to the song, and the costume designers were working overtime to get the clothes finished. I sauntered onstage, swinging my hips in time to the overly loud music. Most of the dance hall was empty because almost all of the girls were in the number.  
  
I started to purr out the lyrics in what I hoped was a sultry voice, stumbling a little as I tried to go through the complicated dance steps. This WAS NOT fun. I made myself imagine that the Moulin Rouge was filled with catcalling potential costumers, that all of the bright neon lights were lit and shining down on me in a hot, filtered haze. But all I saw in the smoke clouded room was a single black silhouette perched on the edge of a low wooden chair in the corner, a familiar sketchbook hiding his features…. I approached the edge of the high stage. This was the ever so fun portion of the show where I got to ruthlessly taunt the men luckiest to be the closest to me. But my eyes were still focused on the dark outline of the person in the shadowy corner, and with a shot of surprise and anger I realized who it was.  
  
It was the idiot Nicholas! How DARE he stalk me like some, some, drooling schoolboy?! I have to admit that, as upset as I was, in some deep, repressed corner of my dusty mind I was strangely happy to see him there. He still looked hot, even from a distance… But at this particular moment I was angry. Very angry. I was still looking at him, giving him the best I'll- kill-you-at-some-not-so-very-distant-time glare, and wasn't watching where my feet were going. So I made the very big mistake of stepping onto…nothing. I toppled off the edge of the stage, my hands flailing in the air, and landed in a very painful heap on the hard cold floor. Ow! My last coherent thought was 'Wow Velvete, could have been any MORE stupid?' before I passed out.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
Blackness enveloped me in a warm embrace. It was like I was falling through a wispy cloud of unconsciousness, my body floating in the thick, soft air. It was blissful, like leaving every dark worry that fed parasitically on your existence just…die. Ha. Should have known it wouldn't last long. My first thought of awareness was that it hurt uncomfortably much. But my second was that of security. I felt…good. Safe. Loved. Pulling open my eyes, (it felt like tiny weights had been tattooed on my eyelids), I found myself in a bright, well-lit, familiar room. My dressing room, seemingly. I tried to sit up, but a tearing spurt of pain from my ribcage immediately put any movement out of the question. Well, at least I knew what hurt. I turned my aching head toward the left to see none other than Nicholas sitting beside me. WHAT? I was going to KILL Harrison when I saw him next. WHY did he leave me alone with this, this, THING? I was going to kill him. It was that simple. Harrison would be dead.  
  
"Velvete?" he ventured, looking at my face that was rapidly clouding over with a storm of scowls. "Are you all right?" I knew he was really genuinely concerned. I could see it in those beautiful golden brown eyes of his – NO! Must not think like that. But, I was stupid. I always am.  
  
"Does it LOOK like I'm ok?" I hissed. In my defense, my ribs really, really hurt. "I toppled off the stage in front of you, most likely broke a couple of my ribs, am in HORRIBLE pain, AND, to top it all off, stuck in here, immobile, with you." I finished. I kind of regretted my outburst as I saw the hurt seep into his features. But, in the end, it was all for his own good. Wasn't it?  
  
"Fine. Sorry I even asked." He huffed, turning back to the sketchpad that had seemed to become a third arm to him. I mean, he carried it around everywhere. I bit my lip, indecisive at what to say. Everything that came out of my mouth seemed to be the wrong thing. I knew in my heart that I was really just pretending to hate him. I really didn't. In fact, quite the opposite. Why couldn't I say something RIGHT once in a while? Finally,  
  
"Where's Harrison?" I asked, trying to keep my tone of voice on the 'friendly' side. He glanced up briefly.  
  
"Getting the doctor. He asked me to stay with you while he was gone." He said shortly, going back, once again, to his drawing. I racked my brain at what to say. I HATED long awkward silences. I didn't like this bad feeling between us. It had been this way for about a week and half, ever since our confrontation in the hall. No matter how many times, in how many ways I tried to deny it, there was something between us. I hated and I loved him. Tough decision. All right, time to make up I guess.  
  
"Nicholas?" I said softly, toying with the fringe on the blanket over me. Come on Velvete, just spit it out. "I-I'm sorry." He looked up, slightly surprised.  
  
"What?" he said innocently.  
  
"I said I'm sorry." I repeated, a little louder.  
  
"For…?" Was he going to do this the hard way? He was so IRRITATING! But I guess I deserved it.  
  
"For being so stupid. For arguing over stupid things. For pushing you away for stupid reasons." Wow, stupid was a dominating word in my vocabulary. He seemed to accept my answer with a nod and went back to his sketch. What? Was that IT? Just a NOD? I frowned.  
  
"Umm, so, aren't you going to say something?" I asked. He looked up again.  
  
"No." he answered simply. He threw down his sketchpad and leaned over, his face so close to mine I could feel his warm breath brush against my skin. "I'm going to kiss you." And, true to his word, he crushed his lips against mine in a heavy, passionate kiss. Yep, totally corny, but when you kiss like he does you don't need witty dialogue. I smiled giddily. It looks like I finally said something right.  
  
  
  
~*Author's Note*~ OMG sorry it took so long. Right. PLEASE REVIEW!!! ONCE AGAIN, I AM OBSESSED WITH THEM!! I LOVE THEM!!!! PLEASE!!! Ok then! ^_^ BYE!!!! 


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